


The Placeholder King

by Sciatic_Nerd



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Alpha Cid, Alpha Clarus, Alpha Cor, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Angst, Beta Weskham, Multi, Omega Regis, Pack Dynamics
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-10
Updated: 2018-10-31
Packaged: 2018-12-13 16:39:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 14,495
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11764041
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sciatic_Nerd/pseuds/Sciatic_Nerd
Summary: For as long as anyone could remember the King of Lucis had been an alpha, there hadn't been an omega head of the family since the fall of Solheim.When Regis was young he thought he could change their minds, that he could prove himself worthy of the crown. He shouldn't have known that it wouldn't be that easy.





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Another fill from kinkmeme, I actually started this one first, but it's become a bit of a monster.
> 
> Meme: Regis is an omega and it's highly unusual to have one of those on the throne, but he was an only child and there were no other relatives to take up the position.
> 
> When Noctis is born and he's announced to be an alpha or a beta (won't know the difference in a male until they hit puberty; but they can tell after a scan that he doesn't have a uterus), Regis immediately gets demoted to being a regent until Noctis comes of age.

For all that his father tried to keep him unaware of the situation, it was impossible. Mors wanted an alpha son and he felt he needed one, much like the rest of the council. But of the collection of stillborns and miscarriages his mother had faithfully produced, like the broodmare she was born to be, only he had survived. 

Make no mistake, Mors was grateful that at least one of his offspring had made it past their second birthday, and Regis was aware of that, but he was also painfully aware that both his mother and his father would swap his life for one of his stillborn alpha brothers or even sisters in a heartbeat if they could. 

They still tried for a ‘proper heir’, all the time, in fact, and the number of still births and miscarriages were getting to the point where some of the council members were discussing the idea of a mistress when they thought that none could hear them, for the safety of the queen, of course. After all the she was getting on in years and everyone knew that an omega’s fertility dropped after a certain age. As did an alpha’s but that, apparently, was beside the point.

As a result Regis had made it his mission early on in life to be the perfect prince; he was always perfectly dressed, his manners were impeccable, he had charmed his way into the hearts of every bloody woman at every bloody gala, he knew more about what was going on in Lucis than any of those councillors and could match wits with the best of them. Weskham, who was supposed to be his babysitter, because astrals know an omega can’t look after themselves, spent more time keeping him up to date than doing his actual job. Which, when he had asked the man, mostly entailed making sure he would be the perfect broodmare for whatever alpha they picked out to rule for him in the future, and that he didn’t get any silly ideas in his pretty little head, like ruling or leaving the citadel. But every time he looked at his father, instead of the pride he wanted to see in those eyes, all he saw was wistfulness, and he could hear his mother’s words rattling around in his skull.

‘You would be the perfect prince, if only you were an alpha.’

At this point he was only keeping up the work to spite them. He was bitter, he knew he was bitter, more bitter than anyone his age had a right to be, Cid had often said, and he knew that he was being uncharitable, perhaps overly uncharitable. But goddamnit all the unfairness of just made him want to claw someone’s eyes out.

Regis had chosen his companions carefully, Weskham, he had bent to his will at an early age, with the same smiles and charm and wit he had used to bend those brainless alpha twits who slavered after him like dogs in heat. Clarus, who he was stuck with until death, he had straight up broken into shape, the man was an Amicitia, he would break before he would bend, and if he had to break his ideals and beliefs to serve his liege lord, then he would. Regis had seen to that. And Cid? Well, Cid was from out of town, where people didn’t have the luxury of simply relegating omegas to their rooms to be pampered pets, where Cid was from, everyone had to work if they wanted to eat and everyone had to do their own fair share. As far as Cid was concerned, this was simply Regis doing his fair share, even if he had taken his sweet time doing it.

He sighed as he threw himself down into the front seat of the Regalia, waiting for Weskham to slide smoothy into the driver’s seat as ever and let them get going. Now wasn’t the time for such thoughts, but he was still furious over the results of the last council meeting, where both his father and the council had unanimously voted that he should not leave Insomnia to go and collect his own armiger. It would be too dangerous, one had said, there were plenty of good weapons in the armoury, surely those would be enough, another had tried to console him, even as his father winced at the thought. And all he had been able to do was to smile graciously at them and thank them for their concern regarding his wellbeing. His father was ageing at the rate of a year a day and wasn’t likely to last another five years, let alone his mother, who against all medical advice was pregnant again and considering how close she came to dying after the last still birth was almost certainly a dead woman walking, and they didn’t want him to go to the tombs of his ancestors to fill his armiger? They wanted him to face the Lucii without a single glaive in his possession? Did they want him to die?

He took a deep breath, a long draught from his travel mug and forcibly turned his thoughts away from the words of those backwards councillors. Even though it had been those words and that meeting which had caused the act of rebellion that was occurring tonight. After the meeting Regis had gathered his supporters, and told them that he was going on his journey to complete his armiger. What he had not told them was that he did not have the approval of either the King or the council. He was pretty sure that everyone knew they didn’t have the council’s approval, which was why they were leaving in the middle of the night, but he was also rather sure they believed they had the King’s unofficial approval.

After one final check of the engines Cid finally sidled into the car and they were off.

“So, what’s the plan?” Clarus grunted.

“Tonight?” Regis replied lightly, “we leave Insomnia and we head for the nearest haven. I have no desire to end up being food for the daemons. After that we head to Leide, there are two tombs there which should be relatively easy to access.”

As they drove out of Insomnia Regis felt the chains that had constrained him all his life finally loosen and melt away. Taking his first breath of fresh, free air, he smiled.

Nothing had ever smelt so good.


	2. Testing the Waters

Regis stared at the bounties the tipster had given them. It had taken them two days to get to the Galdin Quay, which had caused a lot of confusion when he called that out as the destination, but they hadn’t argued and so there hadn’t been anything able to ruin his good mood yet. Not even when he learnt that there was no way he was going to find his favourite drink outside of the big cities, like Insomnia and Lestallum and that he was going to have to put up with ebony for the mean time.

Clarus had looked at him as if the world had ended when he simply sighed and started drinking the ebony instead.

“Didn’t you once say that drinking ebony was like drinking the Scourge?” his voice hilariously high pitched.

Regis had simply smirked, “Clarus, my friend, you are greatly underestimating what I am willing to put up with to ensure our journey is a success,” patting the giant man on the back as he sauntered back towards the car.

He smirked at the memory before turning his thoughts back to the jobs before him, the sabertusks or the reapertails?

“Cid!” he called.

“Yeah, Reggie?” he hollered back, not bothering to leave his seat.

“Come over here a minute!”

Regis heard a loud sigh, a bit of shuffling and finally Cid had shuffled over, the lazy bastard.

“What is it?”

“Reapertails or sabertusks?” he asked, finally looking up.

“What are you talking about?” Clarus nosed in, panicked.

As Regis turned his annoyed stare to Cid, the man winced. It wasn’t his fault Reggie’s babysitters crowded him the moment he opened his mouth.

“Reapertails or sabertusks?” Regis glared with that mulish expression he just knew meant that they would probably end up doing both hunts and that the more his babysitters fussed, the more hunts they would end up doing. For all that Regis knew how to ease people into letting him do things which he had learnt were considered ‘inappropriate’ in the crown city, the man had never had the time or energy to waste when it was one of his friends, when the obstacle in his way was Clarus, Weskham or even himself on that rare occasion, Regis was more likely to simply bully them into submission.

“Regis,” Weskham begun delicately, “Are you sure that take these hunts are strictly necessary? We were supposed to collect the arms as quickly as possible and then return to the city before the Council could kick up too much of a fuss.”

Cid snorted to himself, well that wasn’t going to work. Regis had spent his whole life pushing people into doing what he wanted, he was hardly going to let Weskham do it to him now.

Regis smiled, and Cid winced, that was the shark smile alright, “of course, you’re completely right Weskham, but many of the tombs are in quite dangerous places, a few are even in dungeons, and I do believe it would be the height of foolishness to enter a dungeon without having fought together before. Do you not agree?”

Cid just sighed, “look we all know we’ll be hanging around doing hunts until Reggie is satisfied we won’t all die in a ditch somewhere, so lets just do the reapertails first, then come back for the sabertusks and whatever else the tipster will give us. Alright?”

“That sounds good, thank you Cid,” Regis smiled poisonously, and turned back to the tipster, “we’ll take this one, but if you could keep the other hunt on hold as well, we’ll be back soon and I’d like to take a crack at that one as well.”

“Of course,” the tipster mumbled, confoundedly.

Regis sauntered out with his usual swagger, “I’m so glad that at least one of you is being helpful.”

Suitably cowed, the rest of the gang followed him out, leaving the tipster behind them wondering just what the hell kind of omega travelled with two alphas and a beta at least five years older than him and was obviously mated to none of them.

***************

The hunt was going well enough, Regis thought to himself, Clarus was too obviously keyed up, but he would calm down once he got used to the sight of Regis in combat. Weskham, at least, was calm, even if he was providing cover to Regis at the expense of himself on occasion and Cid, bless his grumpy soul, was mostly leaving him to fend for himself, only interfering if he legitimately needed it, which wasn’t very often, considering the other two. Regis thought he could kiss him for that.

The reapertails were in a wonderfully convenient location, congregating around a few windmills which he could easily warp up to and then strike down from above. To be honest, he was having a ball, warping and phasing every second step made him feel alive. Once they had finally finished the last one off, he had warped down into the shell, cutting the poor beast’s stinger clean off as Clarus had brought his sword down on the thing’s head, he hopped off it’s back, grinning from ear to ear, like a fool.

“We are definitely doing the Sabertusks. And maybe a few others. This is fun,” he babbled, high on the adrenaline. Clarus felt a shiver go down his spine, the last time Regis had sounded this excited about something it had been Cid, and for all the fuss everyone made regarding the inappropriateness of an omega prince having an alpha commoner friend, Regis had clung to the man with a tenacity that was truly frightening. The shield sighed to himself and mentally prepared himself for seeing his prince in dangerous positions much more often. And for going on more hunts. Many more hunts.

Clarus’ hunch had been correct. They spent the next five days collecting hunts from the tipster and then cashing them in. Admittedly it was becoming easier, seeing Regis in combat, especially after the first day when, once they had reached camp, he had taken his liege aside and helped him practice. While Mors had given Regis combat training, it was nowhere near the level he would have given an alpha or beta son. So his liege still had much to learn, but Regis was a conscientious student and he had solid grounding, having spent far longer than necessary just drilling the basics, so he was picking things up fairly well. It was also doing wonders for their relationship, Clarus had found. Once Regis had stopped thinking of him as an obstacle he had been much more likely to take his advice seriously and had been far less antagonistic, something which had relieved Clarus to an embarrassing degree. 

Because Clarus had also fallen for his prince’s charms, along with most of the rest of the court. He had fallen for that secret smile, those hooded eyes and the way he would invite you to touch, only to be just out of reach once you tried. What Regis did not understand was that he had set off the protective instincts of every alpha in the citadel, the ones that made them want to keep him there, with them where it was safe, ply him with more gifts than he would ever need, to let him shine as the crown jewel of Lucis and for them to all bask in his attention.

The lot of them were all weak and indulgent towards him, it was a collective protectiveness that they had never felt towards any other omega. But he was still the crown prince, and it showed, none of the other omegas knew anything but basic self defence, and possibly ranged weapons and daggers, now that he thought about it, they also weren’t allowed to sit in on council meetings or have access to the court transcripts either.

So Clarus had clung to this olive branch his prince was reaching out to him and as a result had become almost physically unable to question the man on anything. Because he had been presented to Regis when the prince had been ten, and he been with him long enough to know that in every smile and every glance there was poison and hatred. Poison and hatred that had been placed there by his parents, who had always looked and asked why their only surviving son had to be an omega, and even though the king had always protested the idea that he was dissatisfied with his son, the way he kept trying to have another child, even when it was becoming increasingly obvious that such a thing was impossible obviously proved him a liar, at least to Regis. And while he hated himself for being so weak, Regis was happy, he was smiling with his eyes now and not just his lips, and if all it took for that to happen was a few hunts and a few heart stopping moments to go with them? Well, that was fine by him.


	3. Getting the Show on the Road

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A wild Cor appears

Eventually Regis decided that they could no longer continue hunting and camping as they were. The group finally had a workable dynamic, Clarus had been surprisingly helpful, drilling him at camp every night, until he was satisfied. It was sometimes far past what Regis considered to be humane, but he didn’t complain, and he completed every task Clarus had given him to the best of his abilities until Clarus had allowed a free style spar two nights before. One he had held up in admirably well.

“Okay!” he called out, once they had finally set up camp on their seventh day of hunting, “everyone gather round!”

They all gathered around the esky he had turned into a makeshift desk and Cid needled, “what, your highness isn’t going to have his sword lessons today?”

“We’ll get to that in a moment,” Regis waved off, “first we have to discuss a few things. So the known locations of the royal tombs are as follows. The Wise and the Conqueror, quite close together. The Clever is a little further that a ways and that makes up for all the ones in Leide. After that we head to Duscae, there should be one at the Meteor, with Titan, can’t remember which, next we have the the Tall, in the Fallgrove, the the Just in Thommel’s glade, none of those should be very difficult. Then there’s one in Malmalam Thicket, another at Ravatogh and lastly the Star of the Rogue in Vesperpool.”

“Um Reggie?” Cid asked.

“Yes?”

“Why are some of them underlined in red?”

“Hmm? Oh, those are the ones which are in dungeons.”

“Dungeons?”

“Yes. I did say that this would be dangerous.”

“I thought you said some of them would be near dungeons.”

Regis just smiled, “no, no, they’re definitely in them.”

Clarus just sighed and tried to work up some courage, “Regis, if we’re going into dungeons, I’m going to start drilling you harder, the daemons in dungeons are harder than the few night quests you’ve bullied us into. Also … just, just be careful alright? No unnecessary risks, okay?”

To his eternal surprise Regis simply nodded, “that’s why I brought all the magic flasks, I figured I would be spending most of my time casting.”

Clarus’ shoulders loosened in relief, “good idea, but we all also have to make a real effort to stick together in those things, they’re insane.”

Regis raised an eyebrow, “how would you know?”

“Dad dumped me in one. For training.”

Cid whistled, “you’re dad’s batshit.”

“You won’t hear me argue that,” he muttered.

But Regis had decided it was time to get things going again, “Wesk, Cid, can you get on dinner? Clarus you’re with me, we’re doing daggers tonight right?”

“Daggers or swords, I don’t mind either way, freestyle spar. It might be a good idea for you to use both, get used to switching weapons in battle.”

“Sounds good,” Regis said cheerfully, “then tomorrow we go to the Tomb of the Wise.”

******************

The Regalia parked in front of the Prairie Outpost, “well this is a bit of a dump, isn’t it?” Cid snorted, and Regis hummed in agreement. Weskham simply sighed, agreeing with the two, but having had his manners too well instilled to make a fuss.

“Who cares,” Clarus called back, already climbing up the road, “we’re going this way right?”

Weskham checked the map again, “Clarus wait!”

“What?!”

“It’s the other way!”

Regis and Cid laughed, following the direction Weskham’s finger pointed.

It only took them half an hour or to reach to tomb, but someone was already there, waiting. For all that Regis didn’t recognise the face, the insignia of the Crownsguard on his jacket was unmistakable. The prince narrowed his eyes, he had hoped their detour to Galdin had been long enough to have them call the guards off the tombs in this area.

“I was beginning to wonder if the King had been wrong,” the stranger shrugged, “you all took your sweet time getting here.”

“And let me guess,” Regis drawled, “you’re here to take us back.”  
The other three exchanged glances, that particular tone hadn’t been heard since Clarus had made a fuss about the hunting, and they were glad of it. If Regis was stopped here there was going to be hell to pay when they got home, and the wrath of the king and council would be the least of it.

“Those were the orders.”

“So then, what are you waiting for?”

“I said those were the orders, I never said I was stupid enough to follow them.”

Regis froze as the other three recoiled, “and what do you mean by that?”

“I grew up in low town, highness. While most omegas might not be very good in a fight, I’ve seen enough ‘accidents’ to know how they happen. And I wanna make it to my twenty-first birthday.”

Regis passed the Crownsguard, leading them all into the tomb and taking out the key, “you know it feels good to know that there’s at least someone in the citadel who thinks I’m dangerous.”

“How could anyone not think you’re dangerous,” the Crownsguard muttered, “you’re one of the clever ones.”

“Oh right, I never asked. So what’s your name Mr. Crownsguard?” Regis asked, turning the key in the lock.

“Cor Leonis.”

“Nice to meet you Cor,” Regis threw back a charming smile, the one that made all the alphas feel special, as he pushed the door open.

“I know that smile too,” he heard Cor mumble warily as Regis sauntered into the tomb.

Collecting the Sword of the Wise had been a little anticlimactic Regis thought to himself, but he had chosen an easy one to start with, and on purpose too. He had played politics long enough to know that the best move to make was the one that fulfilled several objectives at once, it was why they had gone to Galdin after all. It had been far away enough that it wouldn’t get caught up in any patrols, had decent accomodation all the while allowing them to gain some experience and earn some money.

The addition of their Crownsguard, however, that was an unexpected surprise. And wasn’t he a delightful one, it was rare for Regis to meet anyone who didn’t look at him and immediately see a damsel in distress, honestly most days he had felt more like an heirloom than a person, locked up as he was in the citadel. But this little alpha, he was watching Regis so very carefully, as if Regis was just going to come by him and stab him in the back, casual as you please, at any moment.

“Cor?” he called back.

“Yes, highness?”

“How old are you?”

“Eighteen, highness.”

Regis raised an eyebrow, he smelt as though he could pass for seventeen, an alpha just entering the prime of his life, but something just didn’t feel right. Oh well, he would figure it out later, as long as it wasn’t some outrageously low number it was hardly the most pressing matter.

“And Cor?”

“Yes, highness?”

“Just call me Regis.”

They were then interrupted by a few daggerquills trying their luck and Regis smiled at the opportunity. He called out his new sword and warped straight up into the nearest one, only to crash back into the ground after a few desperate, but quite effective strikes. Weskham had already taken one out with his sharpshooting and both Clarus and Cid were fairing well enough, waiting for the pests to get into range before striking. They were having reasonable success, but neither Clarus’ greatsword nor Cid’s warhammer were built for dealing with such small aerial targets. But the real surprise was Cor, Cor who was using a ridiculously long katana and constantly trying to take a swing at the nearest target.

He looked like a kitten, pouncing on birds in a park. It was adorable.

It was also distracting enough that when one of the birds dive bombed him they would have gotten a hit on him if Cid hadn’t called out and told him to get his ‘fool head in the game’. Forcing himself to look away he swung at the bird before it could fly up out of reach again, and that was that. It had hardly been a battle, just a little scuffle really.

“Alright,” Regis decreed, as they left the area, “the Axe of the Conqueror! Wesk! You have the map, what direction are we going in?”

Weskham just sighed, consulted the map and began walking, “I would ask if we could take a break between royal arms, but my prince is just the sort of tyrant who would ignore the needs of his retainers.”

Regis just smiled, happy Wesk was in the rare mood to ‘tease inappropriately’, “I am so glad, Weskham, that you know me so well.”

“Alright, alright,” Cor interrupted, “come on, we’re loosing daylight here. If you’re leading us go faster.”

Weskham’s eyes narrowed and Regis knew he was trying to determine if this was Cor behaving as he usually would or if this was a young alpha’s tendency to boss betas around. Because if it was the latter it would need to be nipped in the bud, and fast. Regis just shook his head when the dark-skinned man threw him a glance. Cor was still young, and clearly an impatient short, they would give him the benefit of the doubt this time.

Regis fell back a little from the middle of the group, to where Clarus was bringing up the rear, something that was making the man visibly nervous.

“Clarus.”

“Yes, highness?”

“I’m keeping him.”

“What?”

“Cor. I’m keeping him. And if, when we get back, you have to pull a few strings to make that happen. Do it.”

Clarus nodded once, “of course, highness,” and Regis, having completed his task, went safely back to the centre. For all that it was a favoured past time of his, there was no need to try his poor shield’s nerves any more tonight.


	4. Don't Stop Me Now

“And here we are, Keycatrich Trench!” Weskham introduced grandly. He had really begun getting into the spirit of things, now that they had all gotten away from the citadel and the watchful eyes of the crown and council.

“Regis,” Cid whined.

“Yes, Cid?” he answered cheerfully.

“It’s gonna be dark soon, can’t we try this tomorrow?”

“Why? We’ll be in a dungeon, Cid, it’ll be dark no matter when we go in and the daemons won’t care about the time of day either.”

“That wasn’t really the point I was trying to make,” Cid muttered under his breath, as Regis cried, “onwards!” ignoring the poor man completely. They all followed Regis down into the tunnels, Clarus clapping his hand on Cid’s shoulder in sympathy, as he passed him by.

“Can you and Wesk take the rear?” he asked. Cid sighed, but nodded, so Clarus figured that was the end of that and turned his attention to the other two members of the party.

“Regis, behind me please. You too brat, I’m taking point.”

Regis just hummed his agreement, waiting for Clarus to pass, but Cor fluffed up in indignation, “I’m taking point! I was here first! And don’t call me brat!”

The shield shook his head, “then perhaps you shouldn’t act like one,” he mumbled.

Regis hid a smile, the impatient, argumentative type, indeed. He laid a hand on Clarus’ shoulder, and shook his head, so Clarus reluctantly acquiesced. As they went forward, Cor preemptively attacking anything that so much as moved, including a few shadows, Clarus frowned to himself. Regis’ indulgence of this young fool could be explained away once, for all that that was unusual enough in itself, but repeatedly? Continuously, as he allowed Cor to lead them through the dungeon? Something strange was going on. Regis had only ever been this indulgent with the few children they had seen around the citadel, which was believed to be due to the fact that he was an omega, as it was proven fact that omegas in general tended to have a weakness for those who had not yet reached their majority. It was an instinctive thing. But the boy had said he was eighteen, and he didn’t give off the clean, sweat smell all those who had not yet finished presenting did. 

Was he hiding his age? Clarus pondered, there were scent blockers and markers which could be applied to make people seem older than they were, but those were mostly new and still illegal products, the other option was herb lore that was sworn to work by certain family members but had never really been proven to work beyond hearsay. 

So either the place Cor had been living in had to be a place quite a bit worse than low town, or he had, at best, irresponsible adult family members, at worst out right abusive arseholes who were trying to take advantage of the kid. He sighed, slamming his sword down into another pesky goblin, the question would then become how old was Cor? He couldn’t be too young, the kid’s shoulders were quite broad and he was only a head or so shorter than Clarus, a behemoth of a man in his own right. And next, what was his family situation like? Clarus sighed, thinking about the order Regis had given him back when they had left the first tomb, this was going to be troublesome.

His train of thought was final derailed by Regis, of course it was Regis, that one couldn’t keep himself out of trouble if he tried. Not that he ever did.

“Oooh, what’s in here?” the prince asked, pushing the door open, ignoring Cor’s annoyed huff over the fact that they were no longer moving forward.

“Regis, you wouldn’t let us turn the generator on and now you want to explore every nook and cranny this place has to offer?” Weskham huffed, he still hadn’t gotten over the fact that he had had to crawl through a passage, on his hands and knees, no less.

“Come on, we’ve found some interesting stuff, look at this potion, how old do you think it is? And this coin, I can’t make out the year on it.”

“That’s because there isn’t any light,” Weskham smiled cuttingly, anxiously feeling the scores the rock walls had made in his perfect suit jacket.

“And we can hardly turn on the generators, we can’t enjoy the authentic dungeon experience if there are no daemons!”

“Reggie, I love you man, but you’re batshit,” Cid deadpanned as the rest of the group just shook their heads.

“What?” Regis pouted, “it’s not like we can all have an awesome dad like Clarus who takes us on a trip through one.”

“He didn’t take me on a holiday!” Clarus yelped, “he dumped me in one and told me if I came out before the timer on my phone rang he was going to disown me!”

“Oh I’m sure he wouldn’t have disowned you,” Regis waved, “anyway, I’m going in. Ooh, look there’s something shiny over - FUCK!”

“Regis!” Clarus blindly dove in after him. 

There was an Arachne trying to hit his prince. Luckily Regis had the presence of mind to just continuously phase through everything and astrals knew for all that he could barely lift a great-sword he had more magic strength than half the council combined. But unable to phase through the daemon Regis was being corralled into a corner, where he would not be able to dodge the spider so easily.

Clarus roared a battle cry and dove at the daemon, blindsiding it, he could hear Cid curse and Cor’s snarl over the sound of Weskham’s guns as they came to back him up. Rearing up the Arachne twisted and turned between the two groups, unsure of who to target, something the boys took full advantage. Regis was using his new weapon, which was allowing him to warpstrike short distances, changing mostly only the angles of his attacks, enough so that eventually he was attacking almost purely from above.

Between Regis and Weskham the daemon was pinned down, making it an easy target for the heavier hitters.

Then the evil thing flashed them its behind and shot lightning magic out of it, hitting Clarus square in the chest, blasting him over to the other side of the room.

“Clarus!” Regis cried out, warping over.

“I’m fine,” the shield waved off. Regis nodded, pulling him up and they dove in once again.

“That monster shits lightning magic out it’s ass?” Cid yelped, indignantly once they were back, giving Clarus a cursory once over to ensure he was actually alright.

“I know, I would have thought that to be more your style Cid!” Weskham exclaimed with a laugh.

“Would you two focus!” Cor snarled unleashing a frankly terrifying barrage of blows on their enemy. Well now they knew why he had been accepted into the Crownsguard, even if there were doubts about his age.

Regis took his words to heart and began tearing into the creature alongside Cor, so much so that after four more blows it gave out one last pitiful cry and keeled over. As the corpse bubbled away, Regis stood shakily, he looked pale.

“I, I don’t feel too good,” he swayed and Cid cursed again, rummaging through his bag for a potion as Cor caught the fainting prince.

“Here we go highness,” Weskham said, crushing a potion to his chest.

“How did that happen, you didn’t get hit did you?” Clarus demanded, checking his prince’s heartbeat and temperature.

Regis blinked.

“I’m, I’m alright, seems like using the royal arms wears me out a bit, I’ll be more careful in the future. I thought I could feel something sucking away at me every time I landed a hit.”

“Well, next time don’t exhaust yourself over something so stupid,” Cid huffed, trying to cover up how worried he had been.

“Alright, up you get highness,” Cor said, pushing Regis upright.

“I thought I told you to call me Regis,” the prince pouted back.

“Yes, highness,” he rolled his eyes, pulling Regis out of the room.

“Alright then, I’m kind of sick of this, let’s get the axe and get out of here.”

“Finally,” Cid muttered, “the rest of us were done two hours ago.”

“Not true,” Regis protested, “Cor was having plenty of fun. And of course it would take longer to wear me down, I’m a prince, I have much more stamina.”

Cid just snorted at Regis’ self-important tone, and shoved him a little, ignoring the double entendre.

“Here it is!” Cor called back.

“I’m coming!” Regis hurried over, pulling out the key.

Walking into the tomb, he placed a hand over his ancestor’s glaive. The blade crystallised and pierced him, bringing his rather empty armiger to life. He watched the two glaives spin as they orbited him, smiling in satisfaction. Two glaives in one day, how was that for innate omega weakness?

“Regis?” Clarus asked, “can we get going? I don’t want to spend any longer than I have to in here. Now that we have what we came for.”

The armiger shattered and disappeared, “very well,” he nodded, “let us be off then.”

As they left the tomb they caught sight of a large locked door, it looked like almost like the door to a vault, “what do you think’s behind there?” Cor asked, curiously.

“No,” Clarus said flatly, grabbing the little bastard by the ear, “I don’t know, and I don’t care, we’re leaving.”

After that definitive end to their expedition making their way back to the surface was a simple task. It seemed that defeating the Arachne had scared off the majority of the smaller daemons, and Regis had also finally allowed them to turn the generators on. A godsend in the mind of the party, who unanimously felt, after going so long without sleep, that fighting their way back through the dungeon would have been a poor reward.

Once they reached the entrance to the dungeon they all sat down to take a break and watch the sun rise.

“Wesk, are there any havens nearby on that map of yours?”

Unfortunately he shook his head, “the closest is the one near the Prairie Outpost.”

Regis just sighed, “if that’s the case, let’s just go back to the outpost and sleep in the caravan. We have enough money and I don’t know about you lot but I need a proper bed.”

*****************

Regis exited the shower, toweling his hair, naked save for the towel wrapped around his waist.

“Highness,” Weskham scolded, “this is hardly appropriate!”

The steward immediately began rifling through the clothes he had brought, pulling out an embroidered silk dressing gown, black of course, with the royal crest over the heart. As if he could ever forget who he was. He just sighed as the older man dressed him to his satisfaction, tying the robe shut more tightly than strictly comfortable.

“Is that better?” he asked bitingly, too tired to deal with the double standards Weskham wanted to foist upon him, after all none of the others were wearing anything other than boxer shorts. Without waiting for an answer he stumbled over to the small bed Clarus had chosen for himself and plopped himself down, laying his head down on the bigger man’s chest and closed his eyes.

The only thing that detracted from the comfort of the situation was the unfortunate fact that Weskham hadn’t stopped his squawking regarding the inappropriateness of the situation.

“Warm, comfortable, tired. Not moving,” he mumbled in rebuttal.

“Highness, you cannot sleep in an alpha’s bed, no matter how-”

Regis lifted his head just enough to glare at his butler, “Clarus is my shield, he doesn’t count.”

“He would never hurt me, or my reputation,” the prince added as an afterthought, just in case his shield took it as a slight to his masculinity, and snuggled back into his shield’s side.

Clarus looked at Weskham in shock, while Regis’ statement had been true he had been unaware that his prince had knew it. Smiling softly, he glanced down at his charge, and began petting his hair. The smile grew and a warmth bloomed in his chest when Regis began to purr softly in contentment.


	5. Enjoying the Ride

Regis had just sat down, as if his discount outdoor chair was a throne, when Cor bounced up to him eagerly, “the next closest Royal Arm is the Balouve Mines dungeon, right? Is that where we’re going next?”

Regis raised an eyebrow, “and what about those mines has you so excited?”

Cor smiled, “while I was waiting for you lot, I heard a rumour going round saying that there’s a real strong ronin in those mines. Apparently it’s like tier five or something, we can fight that too, can’t we?”

Cor was almost sure the prince would say yes, Regis had been fine with them fighting their way through everything they saw in Keycatrich after all. He was grateful that the Prince had let him tag along, common folk weren’t often allowed to leave Insomnia and still have a guaranteed way back in. Even though everyone else was looking at him strangely, he really wasn’t planning on calling the Crownsguard, or telling the king where the prince was, but he couldn’t just come out and say this. Regis may have taken him at his word, but he still had to prove that he was just as strong as any of the other alphas, just as reliable to the rest of the group. So he had pushed forward, almost always been the first one going into the fight and he did his best to draw fire and kill everything as quickly as possible, he wasn’t that great at defence and the one time he had tried Clarus had seemed insulted, so he didn’t do it again. That man was built like a brick wall and Cor wasn’t sure he could beat him in a fight.

 _Be honest_ , he thought to himself, unless he got unreasonably lucky, he was definitely going to loose that fight. So he turned hopefully to Regis, who had been completely awesome so far, and not at all boring like all the other nobles he had met while he had been working in the palace.

“That’s a wonderful idea,” Regis smiled falsely, “I’ll keep it in mind if you ever piss me off so much that I feel the need to assassinate you.”

Cor reared back, shocked and obviously wounded, and Regis tried not to wince guiltily, reminding himself that, unlike Clarus, Cid and Weskham, Cor had only been with them a day and was in no way used to the cutting wit Regis preferred to employ when someone said something he felt was stupid.

Cor tried to convince himself he didn’t feel a little bit hurt at such a harsh rejection, but he must have been obviously upset because Regis sighed.

“Cor,” he tried again, more gently, “while your skills are beyond question, as you proved to us in Keycatrich, I refuse to land us all in a situation where half the party would be a liability, myself most of all. It’s a sure fire way to get people killed. We’ll swing past Balouve on our way back to Insomnia.”

Cor just huffed, “fine then, so where are we going instead?”

“The Disc of Cauthess, that’s where the Mystic was buried. And look at it this way, if we do things this way by the time we get back you’ll probably be strong enough that I’ll let you take on the Ronin by yourself.”

“Really?” Cor’s eyes widened, the hopeful feeling returning.

“If Clarus says yes, there should be no problems.”

Clarus’ head came up like a bomb had gone off next to him and he yelped, “oh no, Regis, you are not getting me involved in this!”

“See,” Regis smiled, “I’m sure he’ll say yes.”

Clarus just took one look at Cor’s wide eyed excitement and thought to himself, _I’m doomed_.

*******************

The ride to Lestallum had been long, but not dull. Looking back now Clarus realised that for the last week Regis had been quite nervous, but now, having collected two royal arms and defeating a dungeon most of his worries had been assuaged and his confidence restored. As a result Regis was feeling comfortable enough to indulge his hobby.

Clarus had almost torn his hair out, when the prince had casually informed Weskham that he would be driving. Regis was a reckless driver at best, in short he had a lead foot, never drove less than twenty kilometres over the speed limit and enjoyed taking any and every turn sharp enough to make the rest of them feel nauseous. It didn’t help that CId was an enabler of the highest degree. The man simply would not stop laughing and whooping every time Regis took a corner too hard or fast and kept saying stupid things like, “push her a little harder Reggie!” or “listen to that purr, like she’s finally getting a good workout.”

They were going so fast that they simply blew by the out look parking area once they finally did reach Lestallum and had to screech into a park at the fuel station instead.

“Alright! Everybody out!”

An order Clarus was only too happy to comply with. He stumbled out of the car and fell to his knees, pressing his forehead to the cool ground and groaned, “never again, never ever again.”

In the background he heard Cor ask faintly, “is it always like that?”

“Yes,” Weskham nodded decisively, completely unshaken as always, Clarus had no idea what it would take to unbalance the man, and to be honest it would probably be so horrible he would regret knowing, so he didn’t ask.

At a touch Clarus turned his head to see Regis standing over him, laughing, “I did not think my shield could be broken so easily!”

“I’m not going back in the car, you can’t make me,” he pouted, feeling strangely child-like.

Regis just smiled sweetly, “I suppose as a reward we can rent out some chocobos instead. But first, I want to take a good look around Lestallum!”

“And here I was under the impression that this was to be a short trip,” Weskham muttered under his breath.

“With Regis driving it will be,” Cor said flatly, no-one was sure if he was talking about Regis’ speed or if he was implying that considering the way Regis drove they would all crash and die in a fiery explosion before long.

“You know as well as I that the first thing they’re going to do once I return is to saddle me with a mate and do their damnedest to ensure I never leave the capital again. I am going to take the opportunity afforded to me and explore my country,” he countered airily, ignoring Cor’s statement altogether, figuring it was fair after he had obviously hurt his feelings last night.

Regis had wanted to begin his exploration of the city immediately, but Clarus had dragged them all to a cafe where he could recover in peace, “you’ve waited this long to see Lestallum, you can wait another hour.”

However, Regis could not be contained and after only a meagre half an hour they were all up on their feet chasing him around the market place.

“I am so glad we saved up from all those hunts!” he grinned.

“But that doesn’t mean you should spend recklessly,” Weskham frowned.

Cid just rolled his eyes, “you just want to make sure that there’s enough saved up for you to by that fancy Accordian wine of yours.”

That particular shopping spree ended with Regis collecting eight different knickknacks that everyone else was sure he was going to get rid of within a year of their journey ending and Weskham adding a collection of gourmet ingredients that made even Cor raise his eyebrows in doubt. Cor, who had admitted to boiling leather, eating it and saying that the taste hadn’t been bad. Unfortunately they were also a good thirty thousand gil poorer, having bought a few new weapons and curatives as well.

This all resulted in Weskham lamenting the fact he could no longer splurge on wine as they all gathered at a restaurant to eat. Ironically Weskham’s gourmet ingredients had cost much more than Regis’ knickknacks but no-one dared to point that out to him. The sun was setting and the city lights were coming on, but the curious thing, Regis noted, was that the shops weren’t winding down, preparing for a lull in business, there were extra workers being brought in instead. Was there a festival occurring, he wondered, since they had left Insomnia there he hadn’t seen much of a night life to speak of.

Suddenly there was an influx of women into the market, they all wore long dark pants, crop tops and metallic silver jackets.

“I’ll be damned,” Cid whistled.

“What?” Regis prompted.

“The rumours about only women being allowed to work in the power plant are true.”

“Doesn’t that violate some discrimination law?” Clarus asked.

Regis shrugged, “they don’t seem to be unhappy, from what we saw there weren’t any women doing the retail or hospitality jobs, it seems like they’ve just swapped the status quo in Insomnia around.”

“The status quo from thirty years ago,” Clarus argued.

Regis just snorted, “Insomnia does a good job of pretending equal opportunity is something that exists, but if you take a moment to actually look at what’s going on you can see it’s a lie. After all it’s common knowledge that if you need a level headed person you should hire a beta, preferably male, if you need someone strong you pick an alpha, again preferably a man if it’s physical strength you need, female if if you don’t and if you need someone to care for others you get an omega, preferably female. So long as we give these gender myths weight instead of looking at individuals based on their own merit equal opportunity is only an ideal to aspire to at best.”

They all turned to look at their prince, unsure how to answer, so Regis continued on, “consider the citadel, the council and the guards are all alphas, the assistants, like the clerics, secretaries and advisors are all betas and the servants are all omegas. Don’t get me wrong, there are a few exceptions here and there, but on the whole the gender norms are enforced and people who break them tend to face a lot of actual discrimination or harassment for ‘denying their true nature’. You’re only noticing the ‘discrimination’ here because the system is different to what you’re used to. That’s all.”

The conversation died down after that and fell into a natural silence. When they finished eating Weskham looked into the wallet they had all been using as group funds and frowned, “we need more money, we’re broke.”

Regis looked alarmed, “do we have enough to stay the night?”

“No, we do. Just.”

Clarus just sighed, “I suppose there’s nothing for it.”

“Hey,” he said with a friendly smile, making his way to the tipster, “do you have any hunts available?”

“Umm,” the tipster said, “let me have a look. Okay, so there’s these ones for some thunder bombs at night, near the waterfall, and some shieldshears in that area a too, but they’re at all times-”

“Great, can I take the two of them now?”

“Sure, I guess, just make sure you don’t go behind the waterfall, they say there’s a dungeon there, also give the Midgardsormr it’s space. That thing is vicious and super strong, it’s the giant snake at the river, you can’t miss it.”

“Will do,” he flashed a grin, “thanks a tonne.”

“What the hell was that?” Regis demanded when he had come back.

“I didn’t know you were into men!” Cid said cheerfully.

“What the hell are you two on about? He gave us two hunts at once, and some extra info, I was just saying thanks,” Clarus defended, but Regis just walked away, frowning.

_What had he done this time?_


	6. Shield for Life

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys, sorry I've been away for so long, rl happened and I had to take a break from writing for a bit. I just wanted to let you guys know that I won't be updating as often as I first did but hopefully there won't be any more major breaks. Anyway, I hope you enjoy the new chapter.

Clarus had no idea what he had done wrong but Regis was pissed off at him and it had sent him into a panic. He had no idea what to do, his prince had always hated it when he hovered, but now for some reason he also hated it when Clarus left his side. He had no idea what had put Regis in this mood and nothing he had tried had fixed the problem, so he did what everyone in the group did when they had a problem they couldn’t solve.

He turned to Weskham.

“What’s going on? I thought we were getting on better! I don’t want Dad to have to follow through on that threat!”

“So you’ve been bending backwards to please Regis.”

Clarus just waved his hand, “I’ve always tried to do everything I can to please Regis, that was obvious to anyone with eyes. I mean there have been other Amicitias who have been passed over for Shield, but I never wanted to be one of them.”

Weskham sighed, “do you really have no idea why he’s behaving like this?”

“No. I don’t,” he bit back shortly.

“Regis has always been highly possessive. Especially for an omega.”

“I know, but he’s never been like that with me, with Cid? Sure. If someone tried to take Cor back now he would probably begin instigating riots, but Wesk, it’s only been recently that he’s begun to tolerate me, and I can’t afford to loose that.”

But the beta simply rolled his eyes, “you,” he pointed, “are so blind it borders on ridiculousness.”

Clarus narrowed his eyes, but he let Weskham continue “what’s your point Wesk,” he growled.

“Clarus, you are his, for as long as anyone can remember the heirs of Lucis have been receiving an Amicitia as their gift for their tenth birthdays-”

“I wouldn’t quite put it like that,” the shield protested.

“I would. I remember the night after he first met you. He actually sat down and brainstormed twenty different ways to test and assure your loyalty to him and him alone. I also know that he implemented at least ten or twelve of them. I was there, I saw it.”

“But I’ve always been loyal to him.”

“I’m not saying you weren’t, but he felt he needed proof of that. He also felt he had that proof after the first few days of this trip-”

“Why do you say that?”

Weskham shot Clarus a look that made him feel exceptionally foolish, “Clarus you do realise that the majority of your interactions with the prince before this trip have been to tell him that he could not or should not do something.”

“That was for his own safety! What kind of shield would I be if I just let him be hurt?”

“I know that and you know that, but Regis’ idea of danger is somewhat skewed. Do remember he grew up almost literally like a fairytale princess in a tower.”

Clarus sulked, “anyway, you were saying?”

“Then you flirted with the other omega.”

“That’s it?” he burst out, “he does realise my father has been trying to set me up with an omega for the last two years right?”

“Who do you think has been sabotaging all those candidates, Clarus? All I can say my friend,” Weskham sighed, clapping a sympathetic hand on Clarus’ shoulder, “is that when that day comes you may wish to have a quiet wedding where you don’t show too much affection and then keep them as far away as you can from him. Or you could just bite the bullet, tell everyone you’re marrying him and take a surrogate for your first child.”

“You think he’s thinking of me as a long term mate?” his voice came out strangled. He loved Regis, he truly did.

But that idea was just wasn’t one that had ever occurred to him. He could, if Regis needed him to, and Regis was handsome enough and nice enough, he supposed. Clarus wasn’t immediately opposed to the idea, but first and foremost Regis was his duty, not someone to be trifled with as something as trivial as a love interest.

“All I’m saying is that omegas in the royal line have a tendency to mate their shields. And that Regis is acting like he’s interested.”

For all that the man was not normal in the least, Regis was very good at mimicking expected behavioural patterns, but that really only made Clarus more suspicious, not less. Clarus just shook his head, “I’m safe Wes, that’s all it is.”

“For an arranged marriage? For the crown prince? Especially if he’s trying to avoid the nobles tearing each other apart for the political advantage. If he can convince his father, that may be all he needs.”

*****************

Cid tinkered with the engines a little more.

“What will this upgrade do?” Regis came out of nowhere.

“Fuck!” Cid yelped, hitting his head on the bonnet, “what the hell Reggie! Make a noise when you fucking move!”

“As if you would notice!” Regis crowed.

Cid scowled and changed the subject, “I’m giving her a tune up, after you pushed her to exhaustion yesterday I figured she could use some love. Give me a few more minutes and I’ll have this lovely lady purring like a dream.”

Regis winked, “take care of my pretty lady, okay Cid?”

Cor came up, looking at the car blankly, “how did you even get this car? I thought the king didn’t like the idea of you being in any sort of dangerous situation.”

“Hmm? Oh, I managed to beg it off him for my eighteenth. As it was my coming of age the present had to be pretty impressive, but he also put a tonne of restrictions on it. I had to get Cid to fix it so the engine went more than a hundred and fifty miles per hour, and I only ever really got to race her at night, when everyone in the citadel was asleep. Anyway, have you found out where Clarus has disappeared to?”

“He went off with Weskham. Don’t know why, didn’t really want to listen in.”

“Whoa, I knew he was getting angsty but I didn’t think it was bad enough that he would be asking Wes for help!”

Regis hummed in thought, but didn’t add an opinion to the discussion.

“You gonna lay off Reggie? I think you’ve made your point.”

“You thought I’d made my point ages ago.”

“Reggie,” Cid wiped his hands and turned to face the prince, “you’ve managed to terrify the poor man.”

Regis frowned, trying to understand how he had made that miscalculation, “Terrified? Clarus should have a stronger disposition than that.”

Cor shrugged, “I heard something about him being passed over for shield.”

“What!” Regis snarled, eyes flashing purple, rage and terror erupting simultaneously, so quickly that it burned.

“Wait, legit?” Cid demanded, before he turned to the prince to try and calm him down, “Reggie! Reggie!”

But the prince was already storming away in search of his shield.

“He’s in the dead end alley behind the hotel!” Cor hollered, Regis raised a hand in acknowledgement and made a note to give Cor a favour, anything he wanted, because if things were bad enough that Clarus’ father was considering passing him over … this was past an emergency, it was a fucking disaster.

He stormed around the corner, feeling his magic crackle like static on his skin as Clarus and Weskham came into view.

“Thank you Weskham, you may leave now,” the prince said, in a perfectly polite tone, without ever looking away from Clarus’ face.

“Regis-”

“When were you going to tell me.”

“About what?”

Regis grabbed Clarus by the front of his shirt, temper snapping completely, “about the fact that Eremurus was talking to you about passing you over!”

“Dad wouldn’t resort to that unless it was absolutely necessary! He just said that it was an option!”

“Well you can tell him that it is not an option, and that I said so myself!”

“Since when do you even care!” Clarus burst out.

Regis snarled out a guttural cry and pulled Clarus closer, scenting him, “you’re mine! You swore” he growled, “and no-one is allowed to take you away, ever. My father is killing himself with that ring, my mother is killing herself trying to fulfil her duty, the council couldn’t give two fucks about me beyond the fact that I’m needed as a placeholder, to hold up the Wall after my father, until the next alpha comes along. Everything is ephemeral. Except you. You were supposed to be the exception!”

Clarus panicked slightly, unsure of how to deal with the situation, Regis had been pushed beyond anything he had ever seen and he had a sinking feeling that there wasn’t a distraction in the world that would shake Regis’ focus on this matter. So he fell back on the oath he had sworn to Regis when they had been introduced, all those years ago, “I swear my loyalty and fidelity to my prince, from this day forward, for as long as I live. I swear to shield him from any threat that he may face, to be his first and last defence, to support him in any way he needs and to be with him always, this do I swear. If I should prove false or incapable of this honour I have been entrusted may the Gods strike me down.”

“Good,” Regis said, hearing the reaffirmation and taking deep breaths, trying to calm down, if both of them refused then they couldn’t take Clarus away from him, “good. Come on, I’m sitting in the back,” with you, was left unsaid.

“Are you sure you want to do the hunts today? We can do them tomorrow.”

Regis just gave Clarus a flat stare, “and panic Weskham even more? No, we need to get going. I don’t know about you but I would rather not suffer through another night of jabs about money management and spending habits. Wes is not half as subtle as he thinks he is.”

Clarus stared fondly at his prince as he was dragged off to find the others. He hadn’t expected Regis to care that much, or be that terrified, but then he remembered, that he had been introduced to Regis when the prince was ten, Weskham had been placed in the prince’s service two years later and Cid had only been Regis’ friend for a few years. Regarding childhood companions he couldn’t remember Regis ever saying anything to indicate that he had any. Was it then so shocking for the man to be upset if he had word that Clarus might be passed over? Because if Clarus, who had sworn to stay by his side until death, left after only a decade, what was a promise, but another lie?

The more viscerally shocking thing to Clarus, however, was his prince’s rage, he had always thought Regis’ anger to be a cold, cutting creature, terrifying in its precision, not something that burned so hot it rivalled the fires of the Infernian. He turned his mind away, to the sheer amount of relief he could feel running through him, for all that Regis had seemed to fly into a rage at the mere thought of him being sent away, he was glad of it. Before now he hadn’t had proof his prince would care.


	7. A Happy Accident

“Fuck,” Regis muttered and warped up onto the cliff to recover a little before he ended up dead. Surprisingly it wasn’t the thunder bombs that had given them trouble, it was these bloody shield shears that were the problem.

“Son of a three faced - Reggie!” he heard Cid curse, “while you’re up there looking pretty give me a spear, instead of this shitty magic spell!”

“If I could grab a shield instead of the fire sword that would be great!” Clarus added his own plea into the bargain. Feeling himself slipping Regis warped down onto one of the giant crabs, allowing Weskham to continue shooting unimpeded.

“Is there anything else you lot want from the magical weapons storage?” Regis snarled.

“Could I have a short sword?” Cor shouted out, unironically.

Regis was completely dumbfounded, defeated, he warped back up to the warp point and rearranged everyone’s weapons. It didn’t improve the situation overly much, but it was enough for them to win the battle.

Once the fight was done they all collapsed, breathing deeply and trying to recover.

“Wes, how much are we getting for those hunts?” Regis asked.

“Almost eight thousand gil.”

“That was more than a measly eight thousand gil is worth,” Cid growled.

Cor, the only one who was still on his feet, bounced over to Clarus, “Can I fight the big snake over there?”

Since he wasn’t allowed to take on the ronin until they got back, he would need something impressive to prove himself now, and Clarus wouldn’t mind too much if he got hurt, he still kept shooting him funny glances every so often, certain proof, in Cor’s mind, that he was not trusted by the bigger man.

Clarus turned in horror, “are you insane? We could barely handle the bloody crabs and you want to go after something the tipster warned us is almost four times stronger!”

“There’s only one of them, I can handle it, come on, let me at him,” he cajoled, “Regis? Please?”

Regis just opened one eye, “no.”

“Fine,” he snapped, what could he possibly do then? If he didn’t prove himself useful he would no doubt be left behind, that was just a fact of life, he had seen it too many times to count. He was the new one, it was essential that he make a place for himself. Especially in a pack with multiple alphas, where brawn was expendable.

Regis sighed, Cor had helped him out, bringing Clarus’ situation to his attention, and he did hate it when Cor was upset, “there’s supposed to be a dungeon around here, if you can find it, we’ll explore it.”

Cor perked up instantly, this was something he could do, but it wasn’t enough, he narrowed his eyes, “I still want to take a crack at that snake though.”

Regis shrugged, “on the way back,” but Cor had already wandered off in search of the entrance, he wondered if this was what it was like to be a parent.

Cid rolled over to face him, “why the fuck did you promise him that?”

“You never know, dungeons tend to have interesting items inside them, if Regis wasn’t such a hoarder I could have sold half the things we picked up in the last dungeon for a nifty price,” Weskham defended, while simultaneously throwing him under the bus.

“Regis,” Clarus began dangerously, “are you telling me that we didn’t actually have to do these hunts? And that we would have been fine for money if you could simply bear to part with some of your knickknacks?”

“Well,” Regis began nervously, but he didn’t have a chance to finish as Clarus threw himself at the prince, causing him to shriek and dive away at the last second.

“Get back here you asshole! I’m gonna kill you! I almost got stabbed three times by those bloody claws! And I still can’t feel my left arm because of that stupid bomb! Get back here!”

In a desperate attempt not to be caught by Clarus Regis flashed desperately up to the warp point and struggled up onto a ledge large enough to hold him. He scrambled back so that he couldn’t be seen and soon after Clarus’ yelling stopped. Hesitantly hopeful that Clarus had calmed down, he peeked back over the ledge, only to see Clarus’ furious face glaring up at him only a few feet away, climbing up the cliff to get at him.

“Shit!” he squeaked, and warped again, somewhere, anywhere his angry shield couldn’t reach him.

Staggering to his feet, Regis froze when he felt an arm suddenly wrap itself around his shoulders.

“Hey, highness, how ya doing?” Cid asked.

“Um, hey Cid do you reckon you could-”

“Don’t you dare let him go, Cid! I’ll be there in a few seconds!”

Regis shivered and began struggling, as hard as he could.

“Oh shit!, Stop that you son of a-”

“Let go of me! Wes, help!”

“Unfortunately your highness, I am currently unable to,” the infuriating man said calmly, lighting up a cigarette. Fortunately, all the self-defence classes and anti-kidnapping seminars and workshops he had been forced to attend when he was younger proved useful. Shoving a sharp elbow into Cid’s stomach as he squashed the poor man’s toes gave him the chance he needed to pull free and he sprinted away at full speed as Cid’s curses filled the air.

But Regis hadn’t escaped, Cid had successfully held him up and before the prince had made it more than a few steps away he was tackled to the ground by his shield, crashing into the shallow water of the river bed.

“No, no, no! Let me go! This is treason! Treason I tell you!” Regis shrieked as Clarus pinned him down.

“What the hell is going on here?” Cor’s voice rang out unexpectedly. As Cor tried to make sense of the situation he wasn’t completely sure what it was he felt. Regis, who had up until this point always appeared to be ridiculously suave and completely in control of the situation was splashing in the river like a toddler. Trying to escape his shield and calling treason. He had no idea how to deal with this. Things like this just didn’t happen at home. It was like they were pretending to fight? Because for all that Regis was screaming treason, he hadn’t taken the clear shot for Clarus’ eyes and he hadn’t tried to land a hit in the groin either.

“Cor! Wonderful! Royal Decree! Save me!”

Cor blinked once again and for a second it seemed like he was going to join Weskham in completely ignoring their shenanigans, but then he shrugged and dove into the fray. Might as well go with the flow.

“Shit, Cid, reinforcements!” Clarus called out, letting Regis go as he was tackled by a scrappy little street fighter who’s teeth were far to close too his neck for comfort.

“Fuck off!” Cid snapped as he sulkily pinched a cigarette from Weskham, “the last time I tried to help you I almost got gored by his highness, I ain’t doing shit.”

“Fuck you, Cid! Cor stop trying to tear my fucking throat out!”

“Alright children that’s enough,” Weskham interrupted. Cor paused for a moment, before finally letting Clarus go free after a cue from Regis.

“Why? Has the babysitter finally finished with his cigarette break?” the prince teased.

“Yes, he has,” the steward nodded importantly.

“Can we go back now?” Cid growled out.

“No.”

“Why the fuck not!”

“Because Regis said that if I could find the dungeon we could go in. And I found it. It’s behind the waterfall.”

“You weren’t gone five minutes, how did you know where to look?”  
Cor shrugged, “there aren’t very many places to look. Come on. There might be some cool treasure in there.”

**************************

Cor had spoken too soon. They had been in the bloody dungeon for three hours and all they had to show for it was a few accessories, some shiny coins and a few bits of metal. Even sliding down the ice got old quickly.

“It’s fucking freezing in here,” Cid grumbled.

“Oh, do shut up,” Regis replied airily, “it’s not like we have anything better to do.”

Weskham sighed, “are you forgetting the small matter of finding more royal arms for you?”

But Regis just laughed, “don’t worry so much, it’ll be fine.”

“Bahamut’s many sword shaped dicks,” Clarus swore

“Very nice Clarus,” Regis approved.

“Creative,” Cor complemented.

“We’re at another dead end,” Clarus said, ignoring them.

“But are they sword shaped dicks or are they dick shaped swords?” Regis asked, mock seriously.

“Finally!” Cid said, clapping his hands together, “a philosophical question that falls into my area of expertise!”

“So does that mean you spend a lot of time around dick shaped swords or sword shaped dicks?” Cor asked with a blank face. As Regis collapsed into giggles, Clarus groaned, sincerely regretting ever saying anything regarding Bahamut at all.

“Well, are you finished making crude jokes or not?” Weskham intervened, “I would like to finish exploring the dungeon before I develop frostbite.”

“Have you found us a path?” Regis asked eagerly.

“Yes, I have. Now if you all wouldn’t mind please follow me to the slippery ledge of death followed by the narrow path over the wide chasm of doom,” he answered with a straight face.

As they carefully crossed both pathways Regis felt the presence of something wonderful up ahead.

“Guys, there’s a fire elemental deposit up ahead,” hurried forward.

There was a general murmur of happiness and relief before they all hurried after Regis.

They all gathered around the fire deposit and sighed, hands out using it as a heater.

“This ain’t warm enough,” Cid grumbled.

“Shut up, no-one cares,” Clarus.

“We don’t have any more magic flasks, and I already filled up my fire element stores before we hit Lestallum, just in case,” Regis’ shoulders slumped as he felt his way through the arsenal.

“Give me one of the fire flasks then, I’ll handle it,” Cor said, holding a hand out expectantly.

Regis raised an eyebrow, but gave it over easily enough, “alright, what were you thinking of - what the fuck Cor!”

Cor had turned away and from the wide ledge overlooking another large sunken rink and thrown the flask as far as he could, into the far wall. It had been an impressive throw, but what had caused Regis’ outrage was the instant apparition of three mindflayers and troop of goblins.

“I would suggest we stay here until they’re gone, but I do believe they have spotted us,” Weskham snickered. As Cid snarked, “bloody kid.”

Clarus just sighed, “Cor throw the other two, and make sure you get as many of the mindflayers as possible, the goblins shouldn’t be too much of a problem. Regis, can you give me a lightning flask?”

“Yeah, yeah,” Regis grumbled, giving Clarus what he asked for before taking another lightning flask for himself and throwing Weskham a fire flask.

As Cor threw the second spell Cid turned to Regis, “don’t I get one too, what do you want me to do, sit here and look pretty?”

“Cid,” Clarus said, unable to resist, “you haven’t ever looked pretty, not for a single day of your life.”

“And you’re shit with spells, don’t know why I even tried giving you one earlier,” Regis tacked on distractedly as he threw his own spell.

“You are an asshole and I don’t know why I agreed to come on this trip with you,” the mechanic snarked.

“It’s alright, Cid, why don’t you just sit back and have a cigarette,” Weshkam soothed, holding out said item. Cid spent a second looking mortally offended, as if he could be bought off so cheaply, before he capitulated and took the proffered item, lighting it using the elemental deposit.

The continued to chat as they lobbed spells at the mindflayers, with Cid taking a shot at them whenever someone missed and them finding out that surprisingly for all that Weskham could aim very well, he threw with all the strength and coordination of a five year old.

“Give me that,” Cid snarled, snatching the last spell from Weskham, and throwing them at the mindflayers, who getting uncomfortably close for spell throwing. Unfortunately, Regis had been truthful when he had said that Cid was not good with spells, and the fira spell blew up in their faces.

“The fuck, Cid?” Clarus called, having only just pulled Regis behind his shield in time.

“It worked didn’t it?” he cried out, which was true, of their enemies only two goblins remained, both of which were handily dispatched by Weskham in a matter of seconds.

Cor, who had been hurt worst by the blast, pointed, “look, over there! It looks like one of the passages were iced over, let’s go see what’s there!”

“Cor, are you alright?” Regis asked, gently.

“Hmm, what are you talking about? I’m not hurt.” he asked, ignoring the burns on his left arm.

Clarus just sighed, shoving a bottle in his face, “drink the potion, kid, it’ll fix your arm up.”

Cor frowned suspiciously, Clarus hadn’t ever called him kid before, that was Cid’s nickname. As he drank the potion he mulled over the idea that perhaps the strange looks weren’t because he was untrustworthy, the shield may have already figured out he had lied about his age. Oh well, he shrugged mentally, he was fifteen now, so it was entirely legal for him to be in the Crownsguard, the couldn’t kick him out now unless he fucked up.

When they got to the end of the tunnel they were disappointed. It was another one of those locked vault doors.

“I’m beginning to wonder what’s behind these doors,” Regis mused.

“Maybe they’re monsters,” Cor suggested, “really strong ones, that give awesome fights.”

“Do you only ever think about fights?” Cid snorted, “no, I’m betting there’s some really awesome treasure behind that door.”

“Perhaps they are magical artefacts?” Weskham interjected.

“Now you lot are all just saying what it is you want to be behind those doors,” Clarus rolled his eyes, “this has been a massive waste of time, are we done yet?”

“Yes, I think we’ve explored everything,” Regis hummed.

“No, there was another passage, I saw it,” Cor said.

“Kid, can we leave it, 200 gil says there’s nothing useful there anyways,” Cid groaned.

“No, Regis said we could explore the dungeon, the dungeon isn’t fully explored until we’ve gone through every passageway,” Cor frowned, setting his face in a mulish expression.

“Come on, lads, we’ve only got the last passage to go, it shouldn’t take long,” Regis laughed, “alright Cor, you lead the way, I can’t tell which way is up anymore.”

“Awesome, and I’ll take you up on that bet. I have a feeling,” Cor added, leading them back to the clearing and down the other passageway. It was only a short one and took them less than a minute to get to the end of it.

Cid whistled in shock.

Cor held his hand out, “I do believe you owe me two hundred gil. Pay up.”

“Shit, how the fuck did you know this was here?” Cid asked gesturing at the unmistakable door of a royal tomb.

“I had a feeling,” Cor shrugged in return.

Cid grumbled, but gave over the money willingly enough.

“Are you two done yet?” Regis asked, smiling as he opened the door.

As he approached the tomb and absorbed the blade, he relished once more in the feel of his armiger coming to life, the magic felt beautiful and it made his blood sing. Once the armiger had shattered into it’s blue shards of light he summoned the oddly shaped knives, piecing them together and pulling them apart once more.

“The Swords of the Wanderer,” he read slowly, tracing the almost worn out text, this made three, once he had ten he would be permitted his own glaive.

As he left the tomb, he turned to Cor and clapped a hand on his shoulder.

“Well done, Cor,” he said, with a genuine smile, and in that moment Cor felt, for the first time, that he belonged somewhere.


	8. Knowledge of the Divine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hi guys, sorry it's taking me so long to update this fic, but to be honest the muse for this one seems to come and go. Don't worry I'll stick it through till the end, but I'm not sure how long that will take. So I'm just going to say sorry in advance because updates will be erratic for this one.

They allowed themselves one more rest day in Lestallum, before driving down to the Disc of Cauthess.

“According to all the records, his tomb is right on Titan’s doorstep,” Weskham said as they got out of the car.

“Well then, what are we waiting for?” Cid urged, “let’s get going.”

“Wow Cid, since when were you this excited about anything that doesn’t have to do with a car?” Regis asked, as they drove up to the barrier.

“It’s not every day you get to see an astral.”

Regis rolled down the passenger window as the guard came up.

“I’m sorry sir but no-one is allowed past this point, if you want to get a look at Titan you’re going to have to go back and turn left, follow he road, there should be an observatory there.”

Cid frowned, “why is it closed?”

“Titan doesn’t like visitors,” the guard shrugged, “ we tend to get earthquakes in the area when a lot of people come by, apparently it once got so bad it hit Lestallum so hard the power plant was shut down for months for repairs, after that the king at the time had a barrier built here, and no-one was allowed through.”

Regis frowned and asked politely, “my name is Regis Lucis Caelum and I need to get through the barrier to claim the Royal Arm of the Mystic. As the crown prince of Lucis I am asking you to allow me through.”

The guard spent a moment looking dumbfounded, before he said, “that can’t be right, everyone knows the prince doesn’t leave the citadel, let alone the crown city, not even for parades or special occasions. Look sir, I know whatever’s going on is something really important to you, but I can’t let you through, they would have my head, I’m really sorry, sir.”

Regis just sighed, “Clarus, show him your ID.”

Cid looked at him strangely, “don’t you have ID?”

“No, Dad never let me out of the citadel, why would I need an ID?”

“Do you even have a driver’s licence?” he squeaked, terrified he had left the regalia in unsafe hands.

“No, I wasn’t ever supposed to drive the car, Dad figured Weskham would be driving me everywhere.”

Clarus had brought out his ID for the guard to check, but the poor alpha was mesmerised by the interplay between the man who was sitting in the passenger’s seat of the car claiming to be the crown prince and his crazy friend.

“Who the hell taught you how to drive?” Cid demanded.

“You did. Remember?”

Cid blinked, utterly stupefied, “no, I taught you how to race. Holy shit.”

“Anyway,” Regis huffed, turning back to the guard, “can we go through or not?”

The guard shook himself, taking the proffered identification. Clarus Amicitia, it read, fucking hell the guard thought, this may not be so far fetched after all. But still he hesitated, until the tiny alpha in the middle of the back seat rolled his eyes and showed him an offical Crownsguard badge, “I am Cor Leonis, Prince Regis’ accompanying Crownsguard for the duration of this trip.”

The poor guard sighed, “alright, let me call my manager, they’ll kill me if I just let you all through.”

“The royals are supposed to call ahead when they want to do something like this,” the guard muttered to himself once he was out of earshot, dialling his boss’ number.

“Villis speaking,” came the crisp voice of his manager over the phone.

“Ma’am, I’ve got five young men, three alphas, a beta and an omega, in a crown city royal plated car claiming they need to get passed the barrier to claim a royal arm. The omega say’s he’s Prince Regis, and one of the alpha’s said he was a Clarus Amicitia, he had ID to that effect, and another had a Crownsguard badge and called himself Car? Cor? Leonis. I’m not quite sure but as far as I can tell they’re not fakes.”

Villis simply sighed, “don’t tell anyone else, but we have had Crownsguard come through looking for the Crown Prince, it seems he absconded from the capital. He wants the Royal Arm near Titan you say?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“So he’s trying to create his armiger, and to think, all the reports painted him as the shrinking violet sort. Perhaps there’s hope for this country yet.”

“Did you want me to let them through then, ma’am?”

“Yes, let them through. Then tell him to get out of Lestallum, we’re under king’s orders to report the whereabouts of the Prince if we see him. Fortunately for him, no-one knows what he looks like, so he hasn’t actually had to do much to throw everyone off his scent so far. Tell him I’m giving him twenty four hours before I contact the king. Poor man should at least know his son is safe and in good health. He is in good health, yes?”

“Yes, ma’am,” he answered hurriedly, his boss may be a beta woman, but she was as terrifying as any alpha, “I didn’t see any injuries and he appeared to be in good health and well rested.”

“Good. You handled the matter appropriately, Serens.”

“Thank you, ma’am,” he said, unconsciously straightening up as his boss was already hanging up, from his boss those words were almost a guaranteed pay raise.

He hurried back over to the car, “apologies for the wait your highness, these things have to be checked out you see. Anyway, you’re free to go in, but my boss asked me to warn you that due to the king’s orders we will have to inform your father that you were here. I’m very sorry but we can’t give you more than a twenty-four hour head start.”

Regis raised an eyebrow, quite unused to the deference this alpha was showing him, before he smiled softly, “thank you for the warning, may I ask your name, and that of your boss?”

“Umm, I’m Tavis Serens, your highness, and my boss’ name is Antia Villis.”

“Very good, I’ll let the guard in Lestallum know how good the service I have been shown is, and how much I appreciate it.”

Tavis couldn’t help but blush and bow awkwardly as he thanked the prince before signalling his partner to open the gate.

With the gate open, Weskham drove them through and after a short walk they were at their destination. It was the first time collecting a Royal Arm had been the afterthought in Regis’ mind. He absorbed the blade into the armiger, which was now finally big enough that he could summon the crystal swords all at once by his own will. As he felt it enter his arsenal he made his way around the hearse and sat down legs dangling over the cliff.

As he watched Titan he saw the massive face shift, the giant’s eyes opening and focusing on him.

“So Titan,” the prince whispered, “do you have any words of wisdom for me?”

Titan spoke in the language of the gods, unknowable to anyone but the oracle, but Regis immediately cried out in pain, one hand clutching his head, the other on the cliff’s edge as visions swamped his mind.

First there was a boy’s face, he wasn’t sure how old he was, but he couldn’t have been older than ten. He was so beautiful it made Regis’ heart break, even though he didn’t know why. The boy had dark hair, falling in front of his face and into his lovely blue eyes, a moon like face with alabaster skin. All Regis knew from that vision was that the boy would be important and that he would love him, more than anything.

Then he was in a city floating on water, it could only be Altissia. He didn’t know why or when he was there, but he was on a mission.

The scene changed again and he was fighting, somewhere he didn’t recognise. There were children behind him, why were there children in a war zone? It was an arid place, drier and flatter than Leide, with less plant life too. He could feel the exhaustion setting in and his armiger flickered away.

He was in front of his father, his father who had become even more wrinkled and was now sitting in a wheelchair who didn’t say anything as Regis kept asking why over and over again.

And finally a young man, still a boy really, in Nox Fleuret formalwear who was crying out for his help.

His vision swam and as Titan came back into focus the headache dissipated.

“Regis? Regis?” Clarus asked, shaking his shoulder gently.

“Clarus?” he asked, faintly.

“Thank the gods, Regis are you alright, what happened?”

“Titan had a few things he wanted to show me.”

“What did you see?” Weskham intervened, face set in a strange frown.

“Nothing important,” the prince answered, never taking his eyes off the astral peering down at him, “let’s go. we should leave the area before they tell dad what’s going on.”

As Regis stumbled back to the car, allowing himself to be bundled into his seat with a drink and some painkillers, the rest of the boys all shared worried glances.

“Alright,” Regis muttered, steeling himself to concentrate on the next weapon when Weskham laid a hand on his shoulder.

“How about you get some sleep, your highness,” he advised gently, “I’ll get us where we need to go.”

Regis, exhausted by his own ordeal of the day, and on the verge of passing out, nodded and let himself be lulled to sleep by the gentle purr of the Regalia.

**Author's Note:**

> I don't know why but I've always felt that Regis had a shit relationship with his parents, his dad especially. And in this universe, now that there are added constrictions, I feel that their relationship would be really bad.
> 
> Just a warning guys, I really do love Regis, he's probably one of my favourite characters in ffxv, which means I am going to really mess with him. Like a lot. And in the spirit of ffxv this is going to be bittersweet (emphasis on bitter).


End file.
